


till human voices wake us (and we drown)

by gollumgollum



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: M/M, Selkie - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-26
Updated: 2015-01-26
Packaged: 2018-03-09 03:46:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 11,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3235127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gollumgollum/pseuds/gollumgollum
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They found him when he was still small, washed up on a rocky beach on the far end of Vancouver Island. Jenny had been the one to stumble across him, unconscious and still bleeding sluggishly from a gash in his leg; Jordie had found his pelt tangled up in a log a handful of metres away.</p>
<p>They were island folk. They knew what that meant.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I have heard the mermaids singing, each to each

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MrsDrJackson](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrsDrJackson/gifts).



> Happy belated birthday, [MrsDrJackson!](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrsDrJackson)
> 
> Thanks to [WallflowerDalek](http://archiveofourown.org/users/wallflowerdalek/pseuds/wallflowerdalek), [auctorial](http://archiveofourown.org/users/auctorial/pseuds/auctorial) and [alierakieron](http://archiveofourown.org/users/alierakieron/pseuds/alierakieron) for their beta work. <3 
> 
> Timelines are a little fuzzy after 2014, intentionally so.
> 
> Title, chapter titles and epigraph from T.S. Eliot's "The Lovesong of J. Alfred Prufrock"

_I shall wear white flannel trousers, and walk upon the beach.  
I have heard the mermaids singing, each to each._

_I do not think that they will sing to me._

_I have seen them riding seaward on the waves_  
 _Combing the white hair of the waves blown back_  
 _When the wind blows the water white and black._

_We have lingered in the chambers of the sea_  
 _By sea-girls wreathed with seaweed red and brown_  
 _Till human voices wake us, and we drown._

 

"We should go to the beach sometime," Tyler says one day in late spring, his first season in Dallas.

Jamie freezes; he's lucky that Tyler's too caught up in CoD to notice. Behind Tyler, he sees Jordie's head snap up, the knife he was using to prepare lunch pausing, before he shakes himself and goes back to cutting vegetables. "What makes you say that?" Jamie asks lamely.

"Dude, the beach is _awesome_ ," Tyler says, as if that explains everything. "Galveston isn't that far away."

"Chubbs burns if he's out in the sun for more than about three minutes," Jordie says easily. "Wouldn't want to turn him into a lobster."

"Aww, c'mon," Tyler turns pleading eyes on Jamie--his incredibly hard-to-resist pleading eyes, as a matter of fact.

"Let's see how the postseason goes," Jamie says. He can always keep making excuses.

~ ~ ~

They found him when he was still small, washed up on a rocky beach on the far end of Vancouver Island. Jenny had been the one to stumble across him, unconscious and still bleeding sluggishly from a gash in his leg; Jordie had found his pelt tangled up in a log a handful of metres away.

They were island folk. They knew what that meant.

But, as his mother had told him later, "We couldn't just leave you there when you so obviously needed help." They took him home, cleaned him up, nursed him back to health, taught him to speak their words and eat their food. And, once Jamie was better, they gave him a choice.

"You can go home," the man who'd become his father had said, carefully holding Jamie's pelt in front of him. "But you're always welcome here."

He'd thought about it; the pull of the ocean was strong, and without his pelt he felt naked and wrong-footed. But he wasn't sure if there was any family left for him beneath the waves, and he was still very young.

And he'd watched the way the elder Benn had cradled Jamie's pelt in his big, strong hands, had seen how gentle and caring they'd been to a strange inhuman child they'd discovered on a lonely beach. He could be safe here, at least until he was stronger, until he was grown and could go back into the water on his own.

"I'd like to stay," he said quietly, and knew it was the right decision, as Jordie hugged him and everyone else laughed with relief, and if his mother had cried, he knew better than to mention.

He'd never asked how it was they'd managed to integrate him so seamlessly into their lives; maybe it was because they were island folk, maybe because the neighbors were island folk too. He'd never wanted to know--never needed to know. In the summers they'd go to the beach and he'd wade into the cold water, thinking about the pelt left behind, folded carefully in a box under his bed. Thinking that one day he'd disappear into the depths, wondering what that would be like, because the older he got, the less he remembered of his time beneath the waves.

His second winter, his mother had taken him to the ice rink and strapped a pair of Jordie's old skates on his feet. "I think you'll like this," she said with something of a knowing twinkle in her eye. And--once he'd gotten his balance and learned how to move across the ice-- _she was right._

Skating was like flying; he imagined that in some way it was like swimming, if he'd had his pelt. He could move gracefully in ways he didn't even dream of on dry land. If he couldn't ride the currents, at least he could slide across the ice.


	2. I do not think that they will sing to me

He doesn't mean to fall for Tyler. Like so many things in his strange life, it happens in a series of inevitable happenstances. The trade happens and Jamie volunteers to welcome Tyler and help show him around; he remembers talking to him some at the All-Star Game a couple of years ago and finding him easy to talk to, not nearly as much of a brainless bro as his reputation made him out to be. There's an open apartment in the building that he and Jordie are living in, and Tyler jumps at it, and then it's like he's been there all along, slotting naturally into Jordie and Jamie's lives. He has breakfast with them, for Christ's sake, because they might as well make food for three if they're making enough for two, and he gives them just as much shit about their choices of radio stations as they give him about his hair. His dog has his own food and water dishes in their kitchen. It's like having a third Benn brother.

"Except not exactly like he's a brother," Jordie says knowingly when Jamie mentions this.

Jamie flushes and tries to play dumb, even though he knows exactly what Jordie's trying to say. "What do you mean?"

"C'mon," Jordie says, a little more gently than Jamie would have expected. "I can see your crush from space."

Jamie groans and lets his head thunk against the kitchen counter. "Except I can't have a crush on Seggy. It's the world's worst idea."

"Why?" Jordie asks, and he sounds honestly curious.

"Do you really want me to recite the list?" Jamie says without lifting his head. The granite is cool, soothing. "We're on the same team--we're on the same _line_. I'm his captain. I'm his best friend in Dallas."

"After Marshall," Jordie corrects, teasingly.

"After Marshall. And then there's the whole-- _thing_."

He can _hear_ Jordie's eyebrows raise. "Thing?"

"You know." Jordie does know, that's the worst part. "That I--the pelt thing." Jamie's never said the word _selkie_ aloud, unless he was talking about a hockey trophy.

He feels Jordie's hand close over the back of his neck, gentle and warm. "I think if anyone can deal with that, it's Tyler," Jordie says quietly. He gives Jamie a companionable squeeze and then walks down the hall.


	3. I have seen them riding seaward on the waves

When Jamie'd been fourteen, Jordie had found him sitting on the floor of their bedroom, a cardboard box in his lap. "I need you to take it," Jamie had said, not meeting Jordie's eyes.

Jordie sat down across from him, not reaching for the box just yet. "What's going on, Chubbs?"

"I need you to take it and hide it. That's how this works, isn't it? You take it, you put it somewhere I can't find it, then I can't go back to the ocean." Jamie's voice quavered, but he'd finished defiantly, even if he still couldn't look up at his brother.

"That's not how it works, Jamie, and you know that." Jordie sounded like he was talking to a spooked horse-- _not too far off,_ Jamie's traitorous thoughts oh-so-helpfully added. "Anytime you want to go, you can go. We're not going to make you stay here. If this is it, if you want to go, I hope you can maybe wait until Mom and Dad and Jenny get home, but if not that's okay too."

"I don't want to go!" Jamie shouted, angrily shoving the box at Jordie. "Don't you get that? I don't _want_ to go. I want to stay here with you and everyone else. I want to play hockey and baseball and golf, and--and go to school, and do all the things you and Jenny do. I don't want to leave any of that!"

Jordie frowned at him, trying to understand. "Then why--dude, what happened to your face?"

Jamie blinked hard, once, then twice, looking away again. "I got into a fight," he said, fighting to keep control of the tears threatening to spill out. "And--I just--I need you to take this," he said again, pushing the box at Jordie one last time. "I can't have it around where I can find it, because if it's here it's tempting me, and I don't--I don't want to go, not yet." He lost it then, big tears running down his face.

"Jamie," Jordie sighed, pushing the box aside and scooting over to sit next to him, wrapping a lanky arm around Jamie's shoulders. "It's okay," he said, over and over again. "It's okay. I'll take it. It's okay."

When Jamie's tears finally dried up, Jordie leaned back to look at him. "But I promise you, if you need to go, I'll let you go, okay?" There was fear in his eyes, Jamie could see that even as he scrubbed his own dry. "I'm not going to be your jailer."

He hadn't realized what he'd been asking until Jordie said it aloud. "I know you won't," Jamie said, tipping his head back against the frame of his bed, feeling wrung out. "I know. That's why I'm giving it to you."


	4. Combing the white hair of the waves blown back

That first season after Tyler shows up goes so well that Jamie doesn't want to jinx anything, doesn't want to upset the delicate balance that is him and Tyler and the Stars, whatever they've tapped into that gets them into the playoffs. It's not going to be the sort of thing he can keep up long-term, but Jamie's spent his life denying himself, and so he and Tyler live in each other's pockets and rack up points and push their team harder and harder, and Jamie never leans in to close that gap between them. He can wait. And when it's all said and done, when they've gone down to the Ducks and their first postseason is over, he looks back and thinks that yeah, it was worth waiting. But maybe not for much longer.

Tyler buys Modano's house, which makes Jamie a little sad at first that Tyler won't be four floors away until Tyler starts pointing out other houses in the neighborhood that are for sale. Jordie's moving in with his girlfriend and Jamie was planning to just keep the apartment for another year, but sitting in his trunks on the edge of Tyler's pool he can start to see the appeal of having some privacy, some space of his own.

"You finally pulled yourself out of there?" Tyler asks, stepping out onto the patio with a platter in his hand. "Here I thought I was going to have to tempt you with food in order to get you on dry land. It's for your own protection, dude. You might actually turn into a raisin. I read it on the internet."

Jamie grins, reaching for a towel to scrub through his dripping hair. "Because the internet is always right," he chirps back. "You probably ask it for financial advice, too."

"What?" Tyler shrugs. "Buy low, sell high, yeah?" He nudges Jamie with one toe. "But seriously, you've been drooling over that grill since before I bought the place, right? Which means you'll totally cook these steaks for us?"

Jamie has been, it's true. (And it's probably a sign of how codependent they are that Tyler brought him to see the place when he was trying to decide if he should buy it, rather than bringing an actual adult.) Still, he can't let Tyler think it's just that easy. "Oh sure," he says, pulling his legs out of the water and standing, wrapping the towel tightly around his waist so that he doesn't drip everywhere. "That's the real reason you brought me here, eh?" He elbows Tyler in the ribs and snags the plate of meat away from him, headed towards the grill.

"Duh," Tyler says, disappearing back into the house. He returns with a pair of beers as Jamie's getting set up at the grill. "You should've known, man. Once you start feeding a stray, you can never get rid of them."

"Even if they buy their own giant house?" Jamie teases.

"Even if."

They continue to chirp each other as Jamie gets the grill warmed up. It's a beauty--a hulking stainless steel propane monstrosity built into its own nook overlooking the pool, with a tile counter perpendicular to it for food prep. If he does buy a house, Jamie thinks, he wants it to have a grill like this. Tyler's in his space, watching him work, asking questions, and it occurs to Jamie that Tyler may have no idea how to actually grill anything.

He gets the steaks on and then there's not much to do except watch them start to turn color, so Jamie closes the lid and takes a sip of his beer. "It's a nice place," he says, as if Tyler would have bought it over any objections Jamie might have raised.

"It is," Tyler says. "Big, but having Marshall helps. I think I might get another dog, too," he admits.

"Yeah?" Jamie asks. It's not a bad idea. "Marshall would probably like the company."

"That's what I was thinking. And it'd probably make the house seem less huge." He nudges Jamie with an elbow. "You have to come over, too. Whenever you want."

"I can do that," Jamie says, nudging him back. Neither one of them really moves away, and they're kind of leaning on each other, arm against arm.

"I just--this year was great, and being able to come hang out all the time was awesome, and I hope we can figure out a way to make that still work," Tyler says all in a rush, and damned if he isn't turning a bit pink in the cheeks.

Jamie nudges him again. "Hey," he says, "dude, it'll happen. Don't worry about it."

Tyler doesn't say anything, just looks at him and--oh, _oh._ Jamie can't help but lick his lips, nervously or in anticipation, he has no idea, and Tyler's eyes dart down to watch before snapping back up to meet Jamie's. Tyler makes a short, aborted move with his head, like he can't quite get up the courage, and so Jamie leans in and kisses him, pressing their lips together gently.

Tyler leans into it, and then he's sliding his hands across Jamie's bare stomach, turning and pulling him closer. He tastes like beer and something sweet and Jamie pushes him back against the tile counter, his own hands wrapping tightly around Tyler's hips and then under, lifting him so that Tyler's propped against the counter, legs wrapped around Jamie's hips like they were designed to fit there. Tyler reaches out with one hand and there's a clatter as he knocks the grill tongs to the ground before he manages to turn the grill off, and at that Jamie stops thinking about anything except Tyler's mouth against his, Tyler's hands on his back, Tyler's skin as Jamie slides his own hands beneath the tank top he's wearing. Tyler's snapback pokes Jamie in the forehead so he pushes it off of Tyler's head carelessly, running his fingers through the waves of Tyler's hair before letting them trail down his neck and spine.

He loses track of time, then; they could make out for a minute or an hour. Finally, Tyler pulls back slightly, just long enough to murmur against his mouth, "I have wanted to do this for _so long,_ Jamie, oh my god."

"Me too," Jamie says with a shy smile, and it's worth it--everything is worth it for the fast, surprised grin that breaks over Tyler's face like a wave, like this is too good to be true.

Tyler gets a hand in Jamie's hair and oh, that feels good. "C'mon," Tyler says. "Upstairs. What the hell is the point of a new house if you can't christen every room?"

Jamie groans, because of _course_ Tyler would go there, but he can't say he's not down with the plan. He scoops Tyler up from the counter and turns, Tyler laughing and wriggling, trying to get free. "What the hell are you going to do, carry me there?" Tyler asks through his laughter. "Put me down before you fall and break us both. You don't even know where you're going."

Jamie almost trips over the fallen grill tongs, and Tyler takes the opportunity to get a foot on the ground and slip free. "C'mon," he says again, grabbing Jamie by the hand. "The faster we get there, the faster I can get you naked."

"Well, when you put it that way," Jamie says--then pounces, tackling Tyler and throwing him over a shoulder. He steps over a sleeping Marshall carefully as he walks inside. "Which way to the naked room?"

"You're the _worst,_ " Tyler hollers, squirming and laughing. Jamie's pretty sure that Tyler's trying to bite his back in retaliation, so he keeps moving, heading upstairs. Tyler bought the place unfurnished, and he's only got the stuff from his apartment here so far; it shouldn't be too hard to figure out which room is his. "Left," Tyler says at the top of the stairs--"no, wait, my left," and Jamie turns and finds the master suite at the end of the hall.

He yanks the rumpled duvet off of the bed and dumps Tyler onto the mattress, taking a moment to look him over. Tyler's red faced from being upside down, his hair loose and curling down over his forehead, and he's still laughing, eyes screwed closed and his grin splitting his face in two. Jamie thinks that he's maybe the most beautiful thing he's ever seen. "I can see the headlines now," Tyler wheezes. "Dallas Stars duo dead in freak stairway accident; investigators trying to figure out how they both managed to fall down the stairs at the same time; alcohol suspected."

"Yeah," Jamie says, grinning, because Tyler's laughter is infectious, always has been. He climbs onto the bed, bracing Tyler with his knees and hands on either side of him. "But we didn't die, did we?"

"No thanks to you," Tyler points out, sliding his hands up Jamie's ribs. "And everyone thinks I'm the dangerous one."

"Oh, but you are," Jamie says, letting Tyler pull him down for a kiss. He thinks of everything he would give up right now for Tyler. "You absolutely are."

Jamie kisses him then, letting the months of pent-up everything out as he presses Tyler into the mattress. They're both breathless when he pulls away and starts to kiss down Tyler's neck, his collarbone. Tyler gets a hand in Jamie's hair again and tugs, just a little; it's grounding, and Jamie almost regrets having to break his hold long enough to get Tyler's tank top off. Almost, but not really, because now he's got more of Tyler's skin to work with, and Tyler's fingers slide right back over his scalp.

Jamie won't deny that he's thought about this almost from the beginning--mapping Tyler's skin with his teeth and tongue, licking over the Stanley Cup tattoo on his ribs, tasting every inch of Tyler that he can get to. Tyler's murmuring his name over and over again, breath hissing between his teeth as Jamie nips at his skin, leaves sucking bruises along his collarbone and ribs and hipbones, marking him. "Jamie," Tyler whines, tugging at his hair, "Jamie, come back," and Jamie kisses him again. He could lose himself in Tyler, he thinks, dive deep and not come up for days if he had the chance.

Tyler rolls them over so that he's on top, biting gently at Jamie's lower lip as one hand tugs at Jamie's trunks. "Oh my god, why are you wearing these still," he says, fond and exasperated, trying and failing to wriggle his fingers beneath the wet fabric. "You are so failing at being naked right now."

Jamie grins and lifts his hips, hooking one thumb into the waistband of his trunks to peel them down. Tyler gets the other side and together they get Jamie undressed. "Your turn," he says as he kicks his wet shorts to the floor.

Tyler shimmies out of his gym shorts and boxers and--oh, it's been long enough that Jamie's almost forgotten what it's like to be naked with someone, warm skin against warm skin. He digs his fingers into the meat of Tyler's bare ass because he can, and because it has the added benefit of grinding their hips together. Tyler drops his forehead to Jamie's shoulder with a groan. "God," he murmurs, "yeah," and turns his head to catch Jamie's mouth in a kiss again.

"I want to blow you," Tyler says against Jamie's mouth, licking across his bottom lip. "Please?"

"Yeah," Jamie says, feeling almost dazed. Tyler grins and kisses him one more time, then licks his way down Jamie's sternum and across his stomach, stopping to pay attention to the hollow in Jamie's hip for a moment, his bare shoulder almost brushing Jamie's dick. Jamie pushes up onto his elbows to watch just in time to see Tyler lick the head of his cock, then grin up at him as he swallows him down, and--Jesus, that mouth. Jamie sucks in a breath as Tyler envelops him, then reaches down and runs his thumb over Tyler's bottom lip, and--God, yes, worth it, he thinks, over and over as Tyler pulls him to the edge, as he shudders apart and finally has to let his head fall back as he goes boneless on the mattress, worth it worth it worth it.

Tyler climbs up and kisses him, his mouth still salty with Jamie's come. "You taste like the ocean," he says, sounding oh-so-satisfied.

Jamie drags a hand up from the bed and traces Tyler's mouth with his thumb again. "You do too, now," he says--maybe not the best comeback, but he's not exactly at his most coherent right now. Tyler grins and opens his mouth, drawing Jamie's thumb into that slick, warm wetness, and Jamie shudders with the overstimulation. "How do you--what can I--what do you want?" he manages finally, wondering if he looks as dazed as he feels.

Tyler bites at his thumb, then lets it fall from his mouth, only to catch Jamie's wrist with one hand. "I want your hand," he says, then licks up Jamie's palm, long and slow and deliberate.

"How are you so hot," Jamie wonders aloud as he reaches down between them, wrapping his fingers around Tyler's cock. Tyler grins and just leans in and kisses him again, and Jamie lets himself get lost in the rhythm, doing his best to disrupt Tyler's concentration. Every time Tyler stutters a little, every time he inhales sharply, Jamie takes it as a victory, and Tyler comes against Jamie's belly, slack-jawed and gasping out Jamie's name, fingers tangled tightly in Jamie's hair.

Tyler, because he's disgusting, flops down right on top of Jamie and the pool of come he's left there. Jamie grimaces, but it's not like he's going to get any dirtier this way, and besides, he has to admit that it's nice to have Tyler's weight pressing him down. "When do we hafta get up?" Tyler slurs against his shoulder.

"September," Jamie answers, running his fingers up and down Tyler's back.

"Cool," Tyler says, and thirty seconds later he's asleep.

Jamie can't sleep--he's keyed up, now, and besides, he's got Tyler in his arms and that's... well, that's pretty fucking overwhelming, now that they're past the heady making-out stage. He traces the knobs of Tyler's spine, one by one, like a meditation; the bones are smooth, like beach stones. Jamie takes a deep breath, then another. He'll have to tell Jordie. Jordie will be happy for him, genuinely so, but Jordie will also insist that Jamie should make things complicated and tell Tyler the truth. The worst part is, he won't be wrong; at some point, Jamie owes it to Tyler to be honest with him about what he's getting into. But not yet, even if it's selfish of him. He wants some time to enjoy this, whatever it ends up being, before he has to risk throwing it all away.

Tyler stirs slightly. "Can hear you thinking," he mumbles, poking Jamie clumsily in the chest. "Stop it. Go 'sleep."

Jamie kisses his forehead. It sounds so easy. "Working on it."

Tyler snuggles in tighter. "Just sleep."

Jamie, to his own surprise, does.


	5. When the wind blows the water white and black

They go to the beach, the next year.

Jamie's tired and sore and angry after getting bounced from the postseason by the goddamn Sharks, especially because he didn't even get to punch Thornton in the face this time. They were so goddamn close, again, and while it's better than the hopeless grind in the bottom tier of his first few years in the league, it's still frustrating. So when Tyler asks if they can rent a house in Galveston for the weekend, them and Jordie and Demers and a couple of other guys, Jamie indulges him, thinking that he'll just lay in the sun and drink and ignore the ocean and everything it means.

He really should know better. Maybe, he thinks as they pull up to the house, he should have had them check him for a concussion after that last big hit.

The place is beautiful, and Tyler's clearly in his element. The first day is spent driving down and getting settled, and Jamie and Jordie take command over the grill straightaway. The ocean's there, but Jamie's busy making food and trying to ignore the watchful look in Jordie's eyes that he clearly thinks he's hiding. It's not until after dinner that Jamie finds himself with a drink in his hand and nothing to distract him anymore. Tyler's doing the washing up with somebody's girlfriend, Jordie is sacked out on the couch with a couple of guys watching the baseball game, and ordinarily Jamie would join them but his skin feels itchy, like he's got sand beneath his shirt. He drains his beer and snags a bottle of whiskey from the counter. "Gonna go for a walk," he tells Tyler as he passes through the kitchen, keeping the bottle down at his side.

Tyler nods at him, glancing up but not quite seeing him, engrossed in whatever Gina's saying. That's fine with Jamie--more than fine, in fact, because he knows that he's sneaking out like a teenager and he's not proud of that fact.

It's late enough that the beach is practically deserted; Jamie sees a couple up ahead of him, holding hands, but they disappear between the houses before he has to decide if he's going to overtake them or hang back. The whiskey hits the spot the way the beer he's been drinking all day hadn't, sharp and smoky-sweet against his tongue. He walks in the surf, letting it suck at his bare feet, drinking and trying not to think.

Eventually he gets far enough that the road falls away from the beach, far enough that he thinks no one will find him, and he sits in the sand and plants the half-empty bottle next to him. "What the fuck are you doing?" Jamie asks himself, scowling, taking a drink. He doesn't have an answer, and he doesn't know what to do next, so he takes another drink and stares at the ocean.

Jordie finds him a couple of hours later. "What the fuck, Chubbs," he sighs, sitting down next to Jamie in the sand. The tide's going out, and the sand stretches before them, smooth and without answers.

Jamie shrugs and passes the bottle over to Jordie, who takes it and takes a drink, not hiding the fact that he's eyeballing exactly how little's left. "We were worried about you," he says after it's clear Jamie's not going to say anything.

"Told Tyler," Jamie says.

"That was three hours and a couple miles ago, bro," Jordie says. He glances sidelong at Jamie. "This is only night number one, man. You gonna make it through the weekend?"

Jamie shrugs again. "There's always more whiskey, right?"

"Yeah, because that leads to good decisions," Jordie snarks. "Next time you gonna go for a swim?"

Jamie tries to glare at him, although he thinks that it comes off more raw and betrayed than he intends. "I'm not--I'm not gonna do something stupid, Jordie. Fuck."

"You're already doing stupid shit," Jordie tells him. "And again, this is the first night. It's just gonna get worse, isn't it?"

"Yeah," Jamie admits. "But..." He rubs his hands over his face, mindless of the sand there. "He really wanted to come, and I just... wanted to make him happy."

Jordie sighs, wrapping an arm around Jamie's shoulders. "We could've just gone back to Vegas."

Jamie snorts. "I think this trip will still be easier on my liver."

"You can get sick," Jordie offers. "I'll take you back home."

Jamie shakes his head. "Tyler wouldn't stay." He'd thought about that already. He shakes off Jordie's arm to lean back in the sand, looking up at the stars. "It'll be okay." If nothing else, maybe he can will it so. "I'll just deal with it. I can do that for him." He gives Jordie a wan smile. "I mean shit, when you think of what I'll probably ask him to give up someday..."

"Jamie," Jordie says quietly.

"No, really," Jamie says. "I mean fuck, why am I doing this to him? Why am I letting this go on when I know it's gonna end--it's gotta end?"

"You could tell him," Jordie says. "Let him decide whether or not he wants to stay."

"But I don't want to lose him," Jamie says plaintively. "Which makes me an asshole, since I don't want to lose him until I decide to leave him. What the fuck is that?"

"Pretty sure it's love, idiot," Jordie says.

"If I really loved him I wouldn't have done this to him," Jamie shoots back. "I never would have gotten involved with him."

"Yeah, because it's easy to tell your heart--especially _your_ heart--to do the reasonable thing," Jordie shakes his head. "Dude. You are the most loyal person I know, but you're also the most self-sacrificing. It's kind of one of your best and worst qualities, you know that?" He takes another sip of whiskey but keeps it on his far side, away from Jamie; Jamie supposes that's fair.

"Chubbs, the whole time you've been my brother, I've known that you're probably going to leave someday. But you haven't, yet, and every day you don't I consider myself lucky, because I have the best brother in the whole damn world. And when you go, it's gonna hurt, a lot, and I'm going to miss the hell out of you." He looks over and catches Jamie's eye, and he looks almost angry. "But if you gave me the chance, if you asked me whether or not I wanted to do it all over again? Even if maybe this time you left when you were fourteen instead of staying as long as you have? I'd still say yes, let's do this. But the thing is, I've always known the score. Tyler, though..." Jordie shakes his head. "When he looks at you, he literally lights up. He is just as in love with you as you are with him. He deserves to know, and he deserves the chance to make his own decision."

"If I were him, I would be so pissed with me," Jamie says.

"And maybe he'll be pissed. But if you just up and leave him one day, without warning, do you think he's really going to understand?"

Jamie sighs. "No."

Jordie nods, as if he's satisfied that what he's saying is finally getting through Jamie's thick skull. "Alright, little brother. We should get back. Tyler's worrying himself in circles." He stands and offers Jamie a hand. "Think you can walk?"

"If not, you can just push me into the water," Jamie says, letting Jordie pull him up. He's not too drunk to miss the look of concern that flashes across Jordie's face at his comment. "Because I'm pretty sure I'll float," Jamie amends. "Sorry, it was a bad joke."

Jordie shakes his head, then without warning pulls Jamie into a hug. "You scared me, too," he grumbles, then steps back. "I was afraid you were going to think you're a better swimmer than you are."

"Thought about it," Jamie admits. "But I figured it would be super embarrassing if I drowned."

Jordie snorts quietly and digs out his phone. "Hey," he says when someone--probably Tyler--answers. "I got him. He walked down half the damn beach, but he's okay. We're on our way back, although it'll be a while."

"Tell him I'm sorry," Jamie says.

Jordie ignores him. "Yeah, no, we're good. See you in a bit." He hangs up and pockets the phone, then looks back at Jamie. "Tell him yourself."

"You're a jerk," Jamie sighs.

Jordie shrugs. "I'm okay with that."

The walk back feels a lot longer than the walk there. He's more drunk and a lot more exhausted, which doesn't help, but Jordie is a solid presence at his side. "Hey," he says once, when they're getting close to the house. "Thanks for coming to get me."

Jordie slings an arm around his shoulders. "Anytime. Not that you should take that as permission to do this often."

"I won't," Jamie promises.

"I know," Jordie tells him, squeezing him once before he lets him go.

Tyler's waiting on the porch of their house, scrolling through his phone with a nervous, edgy energy that betrays how worried he is. As soon as Jamie sees him, he feels like an asshole all over again. "Hey," he says as they hit the bottom step and Tyler looks up.

Tyler's face melts into relief. God, Jamie is such a dick sometimes. "Hey," Tyler says, standing and coming to meet them. "You okay?"

"Yeah," Jamie says. "Sorry. I didn't realize how far I'd gone."

"Make him drink some water before you put him to bed," Jordie says, moving past them to go into the house. Jamie sees Tyler's expression change as he catches sight of the empty bottle. "Good night, kids."

"I'm sorry," Jamie says as soon as the door closes behind Jordie.

Tyler steps forward, slipping his arms around Jamie's waist. "Dude, it's okay." He tilts their foreheads together. "Are you okay?"

Jamie sighs. "I don't know," he admits, feeling the alcohol and the couple miles' walk on the beach. "Just... got a lot to think about."

"Okay," Tyler says, and Jamie's too drunk to gauge exactly what that tone of voice means. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"Not yet," Jamie says. "Honestly, right now I just want to go to sleep. With you," he adds, because he wants to be sure Tyler knows that.

Tyler kisses his forehead. "Okay," he says again.

"I'm sorry I scared you," Jamie says, because that's something else he feels like he needs to say out loud.

"It's okay," Tyler says. "Just maybe don't walk so far next time, or take a buddy or something, yeah?"

"I will," Jamie promises.

Tyler makes him drink a glass of water and take ibuprofen, then strips him down and pushes him into the shower when he realizes that Jamie's covered in sand. Tyler follows him in, and it's nice to stand there under the warm water and let Tyler take care of him. "I don't deserve you," Jamie sighs against Tyler's shoulder as Tyler rinses him off.

"Whatever," Tyler dismisses gently, pushing Jamie back under the water. Jamie misses the next thing Tyler says, but the look in his eyes is fond when Jamie opens his eyes again, blinking the water away. "You're the best thing that ever happened to me," Tyler says, framing Jamie's face with his hands.

"I wish I could be better," Jamie admits.

Tyler just shakes his head. "Weirdly, that's one of the things I like about you, dork."

Jamie thinks about what Jordie said, and he almost opens his mouth, nestled against Tyler's chest with Tyler's arms wrapped around him protectively. But he's drunk, and he's tired, and he knows he doesn't have the stamina that the resulting conversation would require to see it through, so he lets the even rise and fall of Tyler's chest lull him to sleep.


	6. We have lingered in the chambers of the sea

Jamie's swimming, riding the currents instinctively. He's surrounded by more of his own kind, indistinct blurs on either side of him that don't resolve no matter how hard Jamie tries to look at them, barely able to remember what he once looked like. He's free, though, more free than he's ever even known, caught up in the exhilaration of shooting the rapids, swimming just to swim.

And then Jordie's there, floating in front of him, frowning. Jamie pulls up and out of the current. "What are you doing here?"

"Looking for you," Jordie says. He looks almost sad. "You know you can't swim in those, right?"

Jamie looks, and he's got a pair of hockey skates where his tail flippers should be. As soon as he sees them, he feels their weight, and begins to sink. "Jordie--wait--"

Jordie shakes his head. "I told you, Chubbs," he says cryptically.

Jamie struggles to swim, but his arms and legs--arms and legs, wait--are like lead, and the closer he sinks to the bottom the more he gets tangled up in long strands of kelp. "Jordie!"

"You can't swim," Jordie's voice comes from above him, filtering down through the water like the dim light of the sun.

Jamie thrashes, crying out wordlessly as the kelp tightens around him, biting into his skin. He's drowning, now, the weight of the ocean crushing his lungs even as they fill with water, so he can't even scream properly anymore. Jamie gives one last thrash--

\--and falls out of bed with a cry, taking half the sheets and Tyler with him.

"Jamie?" Tyler says carefully, blinking at him in the half-light of dawn.

"Yeah," Jamie rasps, trying to get his breathing under control. "Yeah. Sorry, I--" He sits up suddenly, pulling himself free of the tangle of blankets and Tyler. "Sorry. I just--I was trapped--"

"It's okay," Tyler soothes, reaching for him, but he pulls his hand back when Jamie flinches. "It's alright. It was just a dream."

_Just a dream,_ Jamie repeats to himself, letting his head hang between his bent knees. They're in Dallas. They played the Oilers last night. They've got an optional skate this morning. After a moment he reaches out a hand, and Tyler laces their fingers together. "I was drowning," he says without thinking, still in shock.

Tyler scoots closer, not quite touching him but close enough that Jamie can feel the warm heat radiating off of him. "That sounds pretty terrible."

"Yeah," Jamie sighs. "It was." He takes a long, slow breath, remembering what it's like to have lungs and to fill them with air, then leans into Tyler. "I'm sorry."

Tyler shrugs with his other shoulder, leaning his cheek against the top of Jamie's head. "It happens. Do you want to talk about it?"

Jamie shakes his head, squeezing Tyler's hand. "Not really." How would he explain?

Tyler turns his head and kisses Jamie's hair. "Breakfast?"

Jamie nods. "Yeah." Breakfast, and maybe then he'd be able to fall asleep on the couch with Tyler or one of the dogs, someone to ground him without making him feel tangled up.


	7. By sea-girls wreathed with seaweed red and brown

Jamie's 28th birthday present from Jordie comes early. "I thought you should have this before we went home," Jordie says, two days before they're due to leave Dallas. There's something in his tone of voice that bothers Jamie, just a little, but he can't quite place it, so he slides his fingers under the wrapping paper.

"What is it?" Tyler asks, peering at the logo on the side of the box, one of the department stores back home. "Is it from Victoria?"

The box is otherwise plain, so he opens one of the flaps and reaches in to pull out whatever's inside. His fingers go numb when they touch it, or maybe he's just suddenly overwhelmed, and either he's operating on autopilot or he has to see it to believe it's real--but no, he knows exactly what it is even before his eyes catch sight of the sleek brown pelt, shining in the sunlight streaming through the windows. He can feel it in his bones.

"What is it?" Tyler asks again, quieter this time, as if something in Jamie's face is telling him to cool it.

"Something of Jamie's from when we were kids," says Jordie, although Jamie can feel him watching as Jamie's fingers run over the pelt for the first time in--god, he'd given Jordie his pelt half his lifetime ago, now. "It's kind of an inside joke, and kind of a long story. Jamie can tell you about it sometime."

"Why," Jamie says, finding his voice suddenly. His throat is dry and he clears it, trying to get his voice back as he looks up at Jordie. "Why would you--" Tyler reaches out to touch it, and Jamie pulls it tighter to his chest, realizing that he can't ask exactly what he wants to ask in front of Tyler. "Why now?"

Jordie meets his gaze without blinking. "Because it's time, bro. Time for you to make some decisions for yourself."

Jamie wants to deck him. Jamie almost does deck him, but--but Tyler's standing right there, watching them with a curious furrow to his brow. _I don't want this,_ Jamie wants to shout, _I don't want to have to make this decision, not now, not ever._

Damn Jordie for knowing better.

"I'm gonna go put this somewhere safe," Jamie says abruptly. He gives Tyler a wan, probably entirely unconvincing smile, then slips past him and down the hall to the bedroom.

He closes the bedroom door behind him, then steps into the closet and closes that door too before sinking down against it, cross-legged on the floor with the door against his back and the pelt across his lap. It's bigger than he remembered, and sleeker; there's a little sheen to it, even in the dim closet light, that may be the first touches of grey to the tips of the fur. He runs his fingers over it gently, once, twice, letting his eyes slip closed.

This is what he's been missing. This is the piece of him that's never truly been whole.

But, as he thinks about Tyler and Jordie downstairs, how can he ever leave this world behind?

Jamie lets his head thunk back against the door, pelt clutched tightly in his fingers.

He doesn't cry.

He folds the pelt carefully, tucks it on a high shelf beneath four years' worth of ugly Christmas sweaters, and leaves it. He does his best not to think about it the rest of that night, resolutely ignoring it the next day as he packs to leave for the summer. Not until he's got everything packed does he bring it back down, setting it gently on the bed. _Dammit, Jordie,_ he thinks, resignedly this time. The pelt feels like it's draped across his shoulders, like a weight he's carrying around.

He cooks dinner on autopilot; it's mostly leftovers, eating what they have to finish before they go, so it isn't too hard. He and Tyler do the dishes side-by-side, like they always do, and when they're done Tyler pins him against the counter with a kiss. "Everything okay?" he asks, nuzzling along Jamie's cheek.

"Just trying to make sure I haven't forgotten anything," Jamie answers.

"You haven't forgotten anything," Tyler tells him. "You do this every year, and every year it's fine."

"Because I make sure I haven't forgotten anything," Jamie points out.

Tyler rolls his eyes and pulls Jamie in for another kiss, longer and deeper. "Am I going to have to take you upstairs and screw the worrying out?"

"Maybe," Jamie replies, but then he remembers what's waiting for them on the bed. "Tyler..." Jamie pulls back before he loses his nerve entirely, lacing their fingers together. "There's something I want to show you."

Tyler lets himself be pulled away from the kitchen, and he must pick up on Jamie's mood because he doesn't make any smart-ass comments on the way. He sees the pelt as soon as they're in the doorway, glancing between it and Jamie curiously.

Jamie sits cross-legged on the bed, next to the folded pelt; Tyler sits across from him. "Tyler," Jamie says. It occurs to him suddenly that he's never in his life had to explain this to anyone. "This is my pelt."

"Can I touch it?" Tyler asks; he's clearly watching Jamie, trying to decipher what his response should be.

"Go ahead," Jamie says quietly.

Tyler reaches out a hand and strokes the pelt, gently. "It's soft," Tyler says, sounding almost surprised. "What--what kind of animal is it?"

Jamie takes a deep breath, screwing up every last bit of courage he has. "It's mine."

Tyler frowns, running his fingers over the pelt again. "Okay."

"I mean--it's my skin, Tyler, my pelt. The coat I was born with."

Tyler's watching him again. "What are you saying, Jamie?"

"I'm saying I'm not human, not really." Distantly, Jamie's proud of how steady he's managed to keep his voice. "I'm a selkie."

"...A selkie."

"A... water creature, basically. We sometimes can take human form if we take off our pelts."

Tyler's hand isn't moving anymore, and Jamie can't bear to look at his face. "What, like a mermaid?"

"More like a seal," Jamie admits.

"And you...What are you doing here?" Tyler asks abruptly. "How did you get here?"

"The Benns found me when I was young, on the beach," Jamie said. "My family...I think something happened to my biological parents, my selkie family, because I was alone, and injured. The Benns took me in and took care of me, and they offered to let me stay with them." He shrugs. "So I did."

"Just like that?"

"Just like that," Jamie confirms.

"Did you ever... try to find them? Your family?" Tyler asks.

Jamie shakes his head. "The pelt is... You can't just put it on and take it back off again. According to all of the stories I found, you can only come to shore every seven years. I never wanted to risk it."

Tyler's quiet a moment, although his fingers are moving again, running through the pelt. "Why did Jordie have it?" he asks finally.

"I gave it to him," Jamie says quietly. "I wanted it to be safe, and I didn't want to know where it was."

"Because you thought you might go back," Tyler realizes.

Jamie nods.

"Why did Jordie give this to you now?" Tyler sounds wary now. He's starting to put it together.

"Because he wanted me to take responsibility for myself." Jamie looks up at Tyler. "He wanted me to tell you."

"Jamie," Tyler says, barely audible, "does this mean you're leaving?"

Jamie twines his fingers through the pelt's fur. "Not right away," he says. "Not necessarily. I want to stay, Tyler--I want to stay here with you. I _like_ this life. I don't want to go anywhere yet."

Tyler nods, and there's already a resigned acceptance in his eyes. "But someday?"

Jamie sighs. "I hear the ocean every night," he admits in a low voice. "This isn't my world, as much as I love it here. At some point... Someday, yeah, I might have to go."

The next thing he knows, Tyler's crowding into his space, straddling Jamie's legs even as he cradles Jamie's face in his hands and kisses him. Jamie kisses him back, full of relief and sorrow both as he pulls Tyler closer. Tyler breaks their kiss after a moment, leaning his forehead against Jamie's. "I never once thought that I would be lucky enough to be able to keep you forever," he murmurs, and _oh_ , that breaks Jamie's heart. "But I'm selfish enough that I'll take as much of you as I can have, Jamie."

"I'm yours, Ty," Jamie whispers. "For as long as I can, for as long as you'll have me, I'm yours."

"I know," Tyler says, kissing him again. "I know, I know, I've always known."

Tyler presses him back against the bed and Jamie lets him. It's not until he's naked and halfway to coming, Tyler moving against him, that he realizes that Tyler's kissing a goodbye into his skin, everywhere his lips touch.

"I won't just disappear," he promises after they've finished, one hand stroking through Tyler's sweaty, tangled hair. "I wouldn't do that to you."

"I know," Tyler says against his chest.

"Would you take it?" Jamie murmurs. "My pelt? If I asked?"

Tyler lifts his head to look at him. He looks as exhausted and wrecked as Jamie feels. "If you asked me to... Yeah. I'd take it." He props himself up on his elbows, holding Jamie's gaze. "But you know that means you'd have to ask me for it back."

There's no malice in his tone. This isn't a threat on Tyler's part. He won't make Jamie a selkie wife, stranded on shore--Jamie knows that already. "I'd ask you anyway, even if you didn't have my pelt." Despite the fact that even the asking itself would hurt, would maybe break his heart.

Tyler leans up and kisses him gently. "Thank you."

They don't really sleep that night, but just doze, holding each other. Jamie watches the dawn slip through the windows, fingers tracing over Tyler's ribs and the delicate wing of his hip. "I want to take you there," Jamie murmurs against his spine.

"Mmm?" Tyler stirs, tipping his head back towards Jamie.

"The beach. Where they found me. I want to take you there."

Tyler's fingers find Jamie's and lace through them. "I want to see it."

"That's why I always go home for my birthday," Jamie says, trying to string words together through the exhaustion to explain.

"It's not your birthday, is it?" Tyler asks after a moment. "Not really?"

"It's the day they found me," Jamie answers. "I always go to the beach."

"Then we'll go," Tyler says, as easy as that.

This trip home is different. Tyler's been to Victoria before, of course, but this time he _knows._ It means no one has to watch what they say, and no one has to hold back on embarrassing Jamie stories. It also means that his parents basically think he and Tyler are going to get married some day, now, which is awkward, because that doesn't seem fair to Jamie--promising forever to Tyler when he can't even promise not to wade back into the sea. But for the most part it's a good thing, the subtle differences in the way Tyler gets treated now that he's full family in the eyes of the Benn clan.

The morning of his birthday, Jamie wakes Tyler up when it's still dark out.

"You didn't sleep, did you?" Tyler accuses gently over the Thermos of coffee Jamie'd bribed him into the car with, watching Jamie's fingers tap against the steering wheel as they leave Victoria proper on Highway 1.

"No," Jamie acknowledges. He rarely does, the night before, too keyed up and nervous.

"Why not?"

"We had to get up too early, for one." It's the easy answer, but he's giving the question the serious consideration that it deserves, and Tyler waits him out. "I don't quite know why I go back, and why it has to be my birthday. I mean, some of it is that--this is the moment my life changed, and I feel like I need to mark that, acknowledge it." Tyler nods but doesn't say anything, which Jamie appreciates, because the next part of what he has to say is hard to get out. "And maybe I keep thinking someone else will show up."

"Looking for you?" Tyler guesses quietly.

Jamie nods. "Someone had to, right?" he asks, hating how uncertain he sounds. "And... Maybe not, anymore. It's been a long time. Maybe they just figured I was dead, too."

Tyler's hand slips onto his thigh, warm and comforting. Jamie takes one hand off of the wheel and laces their fingers together, their entwined hands resting on his leg. "Thanks for coming with me," Jamie says.

Tyler shrugs. "You know I'm always down with a trip to the beach."

It's a pretty drive--always is, in the summer. They follow Highway 1 along the eastern coast of Vancouver Island, up past Nanaimo and Parksville until they turn away from the Salish Sea and climb into the mountains. It's high summer, so the sun's up by the time they turn inland. Tyler dozes for the first part of the trip, but this is the first time he's gone beyond Victoria, and he watches as the mountains swell and recede to either side of them as they travel. There's not much traffic this early, just the occasional logging truck or pickup to pass, and they make good time.

Jamie's always nervous, and this time he holds Tyler's hand tightly as they walk towards the ocean. "Man," Tyler says appreciatively. "It's fucking beautiful here." He's not wrong; this part of the island is mountains and forest, tall evergreen trees that run right up to the rocks that make up the beach. It's always cooler on this side of the island, and wetter, and the pine and ocean combine to make a smell that Jamie always thinks of as _home_. The ocean comes surging in amongst craggy rocks, and sometimes Jamie thinks if he just listens, he can hear a song in the play of water against stone.

They pick their way over rocks carefully until they're on a little peninsula that juts out into the waves. "This is it, near as Jordie could remember," Jamie says; it's high tide now, and the tide pool that had snagged him is covered. "We came out here for my eighteenth birthday and walked up and down this damn beach until we found it. He was pretty young when they found me, but he said that day was something he'd never forget."

"I can imagine," Tyler says. "Your whole family was here?"

Jamie nods. "Jenny found me. She said she saw the blood first, and almost didn't keep looking."

"Blood?" Tyler asks.

Jamie twists his leg to show the whipcord scar twisting up the back and side of his calf. "They were afraid I wouldn't be able to walk, but it healed up pretty well."

Tyler bends to run his fingers over the scar. He's run his tongue over it a few times before, in bed, and it never fails to make Jamie shiver. "If someone showed up right now," he said, still kneeling next to Jamie, "and said he could show you all of the secrets of your people or whatever, but you had to come with him right now, would you?"

Jamie looks out over the ocean. Its pulse is loudest here, the call tugging at his bones never harder to ignore than standing right here on this shore. "No," Jamie says finally, and he sits down, hooking an arm around Tyler to pull him into his lap. He buries his face in the join between Tyler's neck and shoulder. "No. But I can't say that I wouldn't regret it, to some degree."

Tyler nods and dips his head, lips seeking Jamie's; Jamie kisses him back, and they make out languidly for a minute until the image of one of his people standing in the breakers watching them surfaces suddenly in Jamie's mind, and he pulls away in a fit of giggles at the thought. "Sorry," he tries, but it's the sort of sudden ridiculous hilarity that can't be repressed, and gets inexplicably funnier the more he tries. Tyler's watching him with a bemused smile, at least, and that--the way he's been so supportive and tolerant, the fact that he's not only still here sitting on top of Jamie even after everything he's learned, but that he's _here--_ sitting on this beach Jamie never thought he'd be able to bring anyone to--suddenly Jamie knows with absolute certainty that they're going to be okay, and the relief is so palpable that for a moment, Jamie isn't sure that he's not going to burst into tears.

"Tyler," he murmurs, tipping their foreheads together, but he doesn't know what else to say.

"Yeah," Tyler says, kissing him softly.

"You know I'm crazy about you, right?" Jamie asks, feeling almost desperate, like he needs to be sure Tyler _knows_.

Tyler smiles down at him, and it's blinding, how much love is there in his eyes. "Duh," he says, and god, Jamie loves him so much it hurts sometimes. Jamie kisses him, then, hard, putting everything he can into that kiss--that through all of the uncertainty, and all of the hope and fear, he knows that he's got Tyler.

...Except then he thinks again of one of his people standing there watching him, and before he knows it he's giggling again.

"What?" Tyler asks, tilting his head to one side, still lovely and amazing and more than Jamie could have ever hoped for.

Jamie just shakes his head and nudges him to get up. He doesn't need to sit here all morning. "Nothing. C'mon. I'll buy you breakfast."


	8. Epilogue: Till human voices wake us (July 18th)

"What if he doesn't come?" Tyler asks for the thousandth time that day.

"For the last time, Tyler, he's coming," Jordie says patiently. "This is Jamie we're talking about. He's the most stubborn bastard either one of us has ever met. He'll be here."

He trusts Jamie to show up at the appointed time, but he'd still let Tyler drag him to the beach every morning that week, just in case. "What if they don't recognize leap years, and he's two days early?" Tyler had argued--well, it was one of many arguments, and finally Jordie agreed to drive out to the northern edge of Vancouver Island just to keep Tyler from vibrating out of his skin.

"Seven years is a long time," Tyler says now, hands jammed in his pockets as they walk along the beach. "What if he doesn't remember us anymore?"

Not for the first time, Jordie considers that knocking Tyler unconscious might be a small mercy for all three of them. He fixes Tyler with a Look. "Dude. How could he forget either of us?"

It's all nerves, Jordie knows; Tyler had been the one, seven years ago, to first say out loud that maybe it was time for Jamie to go back to the ocean. He hadn't been wrong, and in hindsight Jordie was surprised it took any of them so long. Jamie had retired, and from the first day he'd seemed to grow somehow more absent, slightly more removed from everyone and everything around him. He was still there, just--detached, pulling away and into himself. Maybe it had happened so slowly that they didn't notice until he was half-gone; Jordie knows he'd been occupied with kids and starting his own second, non-hockey life at that point, and hadn't been paying as close attention as maybe he should have.

And then one day Tyler had had enough, and he pulled down Jamie's pelt from the top shelf of the closet. "I told him I wanted him to come back," Tyler told Jordie later, "but that I thought that he needed to go."

Tyler was right--Jamie hadn't wanted to admit how strong the pull of the ocean was, how he was kept awake at night by the unanswered questions about his family and his people, and the pull of the tide against his heart. He and Tyler had agreed: seven years, and then he would come back.

"Sit down," Jordie tells Tyler, patting the log next to him. "We could be here a while." It's early--the sun's only just started to push its way up into the sky behind them, and the ocean's still the same color of grey as the rocky beach.

Tyler leans against the log--a tree, really, that had been tossed up on the beach by a storm, not too different from the one Jordie found Jamie's pelt in all those years ago. "What do you think it's like, underwater?" he asks idly.

Jordie shrugs. "Wet."

Tyler shoves him, rolling his eyes. "Jerk."

Jordie shoves him back. "There's probably a lot of seaweed, too."

"Why do I put up with you," Tyler sighs, still scanning the sea.

Jordie shrugs. "Because I'm family." It's true, too, although more the other way around; Tyler'd been adopted into the Benn clan, and in Jamie's absence that bond has grown tighter than ever. Jamie'll be happy to hear that, he thinks, taking a sip of coffee from the Thermos they brought. "Hey," he says, nudging Tyler. "This would have been a lot harder if you hadn't been around."

"I'm glad you had me moping around to distract you," Tyler says wryly.

Now it's Jordie's turn to roll his eyes. "That's not what I meant and you--" He's distracted by the flash of something in the surf that could be a flipper, or could just be a wave breaking funnily. Next to him, Tyler tenses up--and then he's off with a whoop, dashing into the water as a man stands up in the waves and starts slogging towards shore, a pelt in his hands.

Tyler reaches Jamie and leaps into his arms, barreling into him so hard that they fall over. Jordie hasn't moved from his log, content to watch the reunion and wait for Jamie to make it to dry land. The pair resurface after a moment, although even from shore Jordie can tell that they're kissing, so he shakes his head and cups his hands over his mouth to be heard over the waves. "Get a room!"

Jamie hears him, breaking out of the kiss to look his way and wave. He has the decency to look a little sheepish, at least, as he again starts to wade towards shore, one arm wrapped around Tyler's waist and the other holding his pelt. Jamie looks good, Jordie thinks. His hair's long with a few strands of silver starting to streak through (not that Jordie can judge, considering how much of his beard's started to go white), but he's still fit and his eyes are bright, and he looks happier than Jordie can recall seeing him in far too long. There's something settled about him, too, like for the first time everything he's wearing fits him well.

Which is a funny way to think of it, Jordie thinks, since Jamie's naked. He reaches down and snags the backpack he'd brought, tossing it at his brother. "Put some clothes on, you hippie," he says. "This isn't a nude beach."

Jamie's grinning ear to ear. "I missed you too," he says, pulling a pair of shorts out of the bag and shimmying into them.

"Damn right you did," Jordie says gruffly, pulling him into a tight hug. "Seven years is a long time."

"Too long," Jamie says, and oh, if that doesn't give Jordie hope.

Jordie musses up Jamie's hair. "C'mon. You two can snuggle in the back of the truck while we fill each other in on the last seven years."

Later that night, Jordie leans against the wall next to Tyler while his youngest, Tara, sits in Jamie's lap and tells him as serious a story as a four year old can muster. "Is this where I get to say I told you so?" Jordie asks him, handing him a beer.

"Yes," Tyler says, grinning sheepishly. He shrugs, taking a drink, his eyes rarely leaving Jamie. "I mean, I didn't doubt that he would come back, as long as nothing really terrible had happened. But I wasn't sure how much he was going to change, you know?"

"I know," Jordie says. He'd snuck into the church monthly, sometimes more, to light a candle and offer up a prayer for Jamie's safe return. And he'd wondered who they'd get back when he did make his way home. But watching Jamie listen intently to Tara, and seeing how happy and content he is sitting in their parents' living room surrounded by family, Jordie knows it's going to be okay. "You did a good thing," he says now to Tyler, "sending him off like that."

"It was kind of a Hail Mary," Tyler admits. "And, to be honest, there were definitely times over the last few years that I wished I hadn't. But it worked out."

"It did," Jordie said, grinning as Tara comes flying into his arms, giggle-shrieking at something that Jamie did or said.

Jamie follows her, smiling at them as he slips an arm around Tyler's waist. "I feel like someone's talking about me over here."

"Mmm, probably Mom," Jordie nods her way with a straight face, setting Tara down again so she can run to her brother. "She hasn't shut up about you since you got back."

Jamie grins, leaning into Tyler. "I'm tired," he says. That's one thing Jordie's noticed that's changed; Jamie's a lot more direct these days. "Do you think we could slip out without causing a scene?"

Jordie holds up the wrist with his watch on it, although he doesn't even bother to look at the time. "It's past the kid's bedtime," he says with a wink. "We should probably round them up and get going."

"You're the best," Jamie says with palpable relief.

"I know I am," Jordie replies, grinning, then pulls Jamie in for a hug. "Happy birthday, by the way."

Jamie laughs against his shoulder, squeezing him hard. "Thank you."

Jordie pushes him back into Tyler. "Now go have all the sex that us old, boring married people aren't having anymore."

Tyler laughs at that, even as Jamie snaps off a salute. "Thanks, bro," Tyler says, coming in for his own hug.

"Of course," Jordie tells him, ruffling his hair. He pulls back and holds Tyler at arm's length. "Enjoy every minute."

Tyler looks at Jamie, catching his hand. "We will," he says softly.

"Good." Jordie catches Tara as she goes hurtling by, swinging her up and onto his shoulders. "Bedtime for all the little children!" he says, booming over the din. He misses Jamie and Tyler slipping out amidst the hustle of getting his kids rounded up and back into their shoes and jackets for the trip home, but that's okay. He'll be seeing plenty of them both in the days to come.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[Podfic] till human voices wake us (and we drown)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/3486863) by [Hananobira](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hananobira/pseuds/Hananobira)




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